I’ve never considered myself a neat freak or germaphobe. Being that I lived with a nutritionist-health conscious-sister who was a bit of both (love you, Liz!), I always thought I was pretty laid back. Then, I moved in with Adam and I realized how NOT LAID BACK I really am.
Adam’s chaotic “organization” drives me crazy, but I am slowly getting used to it (note: that does not mean I have accepted it). The germs and bacteria Adam’s filthy surfing paraphernalia treks into our home, on the other hand, makes me absolutely INSANE.
Adam wears his wet suit at least 4/7 days of the week…in the ocean. Do I even need to address how dirty the ocean is? What “lives” in the ocean? How unsanitary it is? No, I am sure YOU understand this. Adam, on the other hand…doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get why his wet suit can’t hang in the bathroom where, by definition, we BATHE and get CLEAN. Nor does he understand why named wet suite can’t hang near the laundry/washer and dryer (read: CLEAN laundry). This is a weekly battle, and though I have not won it yet, I am confident victory will be mine soon.
I am not a surfer (shocking…I know). I like to sleep, I am not partial to cold water and I would rather spend my time at the beach basking in the sun. Plus, surfing involves too much equipment and preparation for me. Thus, I won’t pretend to know WHY wax must come off a surfboard. Something about performance, maintenance?…I don’t actually know- I just know it happened. Last night. In my living room.
Now I could get over the “wax removal” phase just fine. It didn’t really bother me at all–in fact, I quite enjoyed the quiet time (…just kidding, Adam). I didn’t even care when Adam insisted on melting his OLD and USED wax down, using our OVEN that we COOK our DINNER in (solid effort at recycling, love!). What I did mind, however, was opening the fridge to get some water and finding Adam’s old, disgusting, re-purposed wax- wax that had been in the ocean more times than I care to think about-sitting in my nice baking dishes. If you’re thinking, “Oh shit, Adam was dead,” then you’re right…he was (well almost– he was punished, that’s for sure).
Just another day in the treehouse (if you hadn’t heard that’s the name Adam gave our house) learning to live together…and loving [nearly] every minute of it!